wherever she went.

There never was a woman more full of common sense than Mrs. Bertram. She
had quite an appalling amount of this virtue; no one ever heard her say
a silly thing; each step she took in life was a wise one, carefully
considered, carefully planned out. She had been a widow now for sis
years. Her husband had nearly come into the family estate, but not
quite. He was the second son, and his eldest brother had died when his
heir was a month old. This heir had cut out Mrs. Bertram's husband from
the family place, with its riches and honors. He himself had died soon
after, and had left his widow with three children and twelve hundred a
year.

The children were a son and two daughters. The son's name was Loftus,
the girls were called Catherine and Mabel. Loftus was handsome in
person, and very every-day in mind. He was good-natured, but not
remarkable for any peculiar strength of character. His mother had
managed to send him to Rugby and Sandhurst, and he had passed into the
army with tolerable credit. He was very fond of his mother, devotedly
fond of her, but since he entered the army he certainly contrived to
cost her a good deal.

She spoke to him on the subject, believed as much as she chose of his
earnest promises to amend, took her own counsel and no one else's, gave
up her neat little house in Kensington, and came to live at Northbury.

Catherine and Mabel did not like this change, but as their mother never
dreamt of consulting them, they had to keep their grumbles to
themselves.